


Miss Me, Miss You

by Theatrical_Sorrow



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 07:52:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11755359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theatrical_Sorrow/pseuds/Theatrical_Sorrow
Summary: Misspoke words lead to misunderstandings for those who fear rejection.





	Miss Me, Miss You

“We need to talk about what happened last night.”

It was two in morning, and Blackhat was leaning in the doorway of the Dr. Flug’s lab. The scientist himself was sitting at his work station, pouring out a purple solution into the flask he was heating over a bunsen burner. He nearly dropped the vial when he heard his boss speak. 

The muscles in Flug’s back tensed, as he set the solution aside. He tried to swallow past the lump rising in his throat, but knowing what was coming next made his chest ache. Flug attempted to compose himself and act nonchalant as he asked,

“What do you mean, sir?” A chill passed through the room as Blackhat glided forward. 

“I know you know what I’m speaking of, Doctor.” Flug’s fingers curled around the lip of the counter and he squeezed until his knuckles went white. 

“I’m -I’m awful tired at this late hour, sir. I’m afraid that I don't know what you're talking about.” A hand slammed down next to Flug’s, and the doctor jumped out of fear. The snarl pulling at the corners of Blackhat’s mouth broke the floodgate that Flug was trying to hold closed. “Okay! I do know what you're talking about, but I don't see what there is to talk about!” Flug’s chest heaved for air. “There nothing you can say that I don't already know about, so what’s the point!” 

He was barely holding back tears at this point. Blackhat was staring at him blankly; his expression unchanging even as he looked away. The eldritch seemed to hesitate before clasping his arms behind his back and nodding. Then he was gone as quickly as he came; a ghostly visitor to haunt Flug’s dreams. 

Once the door shut, Flug collapsed to his knees. He crawled a few feet forward, towards his desk, and curled up underneath with his knees tucked up under his chin. Chest aching, heart heavy, and his stomach twisting into knots he wanted to scream. But with the mix of emotions in his veins he just couldn’t let them out. No tears, no sobbing, no break down. 

He felt empty. 

His body went limp and slipped down the inside walls of the desk until he was flat on his back. The sigh he let out felt like it was taking his soul with it. The part of him that was longing, the hole opening in his the space between his ribs, wanted to turn back time or just forget last night ever happened. 

Late night confessions and vulnerable hearts had led to soft kisses and a gentle embrace. Sleeping with someone holding you close, like you mattered to them, left an impression on your very core. Knowing, as you woke up to an empty bed, that you had made a mistake was gut wrenching. 

The emotions flooded back in quietly, leaving wet tracks down past Flug’s ears and into his curly brown hair. He didn't make a sound as the back of his bag became soaked with tears. 

The energy drained from his body, Flug rolled on his side, and slowly dragged his arms across the floor so that he was propped up slightly. Then he pushed up weakly so that he could sit up. 

Limbs shaking, eyes running dry, Flug hauled his heavy body to it’s feet. He stumbled and hit his hip against the corner of the desk. He used the pain radiating from the bruise as a distraction from his swirling thoughts. 

“One foot in front of the other,” Flug mumbled to himself. Then he made his way towards the door, the hole in his chest now a gaping void of empty black. He wanted to forget, so that what he was going to try and do. 

Flug was in his private quarters, a bottle of newly opened alcohol in his hands, when there was knock on the door.   
He wanted to pretend he didn't hear it. The doctor tried to ignore the insistent pounding that broke out when he didn't answer, but it bounced around his skull and began to thud against his broken heart like a hammer. Flug dropped the bottle, and it spilled across the carpet as he pressed his palms flat against his ears to block out the noise. 

“GO AWAY!” he screamed. The knocking stopped. Flug pulled in a pained breath, and let his hands drop back to his sides. His feet dragged as he shuffled to the door. Then he pressed his face to the cool wood and strained to hear whoever had been on the other side. 

There was the sound of raspy breathing, and the rustle of clothing. Then a deep voice said, 

“I’m sorry, Flug.” 

It was like lightning had struck Flug when he was soaking wet. He froze for a few precious seconds, disbelief pulsing through his systems, then he ripped the door open and looked down the halls to find that no one was there. Without thinking, his legs were carrying him down the corridor as he was scrambling to put his frazzled mind back together.   
Had he heard that right? Had he imagined that voice? Those words?

His fist slammed into a dark, wood door. When no one answered, he bashed both fists against it so hard that they stung. Again, again, again, and again until the nerves in his fingers burned with agony. 

“DAMN IT, BLACKHAT!” he cried out. “IF YOU REALLY WERE SORRY YOU’D ANSWER ME!” In the still that followed Flug’s outburst, he could hear indistinct whisperings. Slowly, the doctor let himself crumple to the floor and sit with his back against the door. After a few moments, he realized he could just make out what was being said. 

“-the problem is that neither of really knew what we were doing.” he heard. 

“And why does that matter?” Flug responded. There was a pause. 

“’Cause I came to talk to you about how we were going to treat last night, but way you acted told me you wanted to forget it ever happened. So I felt like I should apologize for my actions.” This took Flug by surprise.

“Wait... you didn't.... You didn't want to forget?” 

“No! I.... I just don't know to handle all these new emotions!” 

“You left through...”

“Flug! I left because I was overwhelmed, and I didn’t want to wake up and have you shove me away!” Something twisted inside Flug’s abdomen. 

“I...... I would never have guessed that....” There was a snort of tormented laughter. 

“Neither would I have!”

“So....”

“So?” The silence stretched on forever, neither of the villains daring to break it. Then Flug sighed and thunked his head back against the wood. 

“Do you want to let me in, or do you want me to leave?” he whispered. A lock unlatched, and that was his answer.   
Desperate hands latched onto aching bodies like they were searching for a life line. Fingers curled into loose clothes, and pulled them tight. Tears poured out unbidden from closed eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” spilled out of both of their mouths as they pressed closer. “I love you.”

It was almost three in the morning now. Blackhat and Flug lay on their sides on the former’s bed, arms and legs entangled. Flug had his head tucked under the eldritch’s chin, and was just breathing him in. The doctor had removed his bag, and so Blackhat could smell the honey almond shampoo he used. 

There were words that could have been said, but remained unspoken. With the way that both parties had struggled to communicate that night, they decided it was best to let their actions speaks for themselves. Falling asleep to the soft inhale and exhale of the other was healing for both of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, this story and others are on my tumblr @pyro-flug!


End file.
